


feel the heat when you're around

by glitteratiglue



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Getting Back Together, Inappropriate Erections, Movie: Star Trek: Insurrection (1998), Romance, Self-Denial, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteratiglue/pseuds/glitteratiglue
Summary: Maybe it’s his mid-life crisis talking, or the unexplained boost to his sex drive. Whatever it is, the knowledge hits him all at once, like the lifting of a veil:It was always going to be her.(Will Riker vs. metaphasic radiation. Or: how he ended up in Deanna's office that day, and what came after.)
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 100





	feel the heat when you're around

**Author's Note:**

> I really love that AO3 has an 'inappropriate erections' tag. This fic: an excuse for porn and a mild amount of angsting.

_“Will.”_

Deanna beckons to him with a crooked finger, lips parted and standing beneath a waterfall without a stitch on her. Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, giving her the appearance of a regal Grecian goddess or coquettish water-nymph (something Lieutenant Barclay might imagine, his subconscious supplies). The image dissolves to another of her leaning over him in his bed. Her curls are brushing against his skin as she presses kisses to the line of his hipbones, her mouth wet and warm and ready to take him in. Her lips are just about to close over his cock when —

He wakes up. He wakes up sweating, harder than he’s ever been in his life and his mind full of fantasies of Deanna. This isn’t right; Deanna is his best friend — and yes, his ex-girlfriend — and things haven’t been that way between the two of them for many years.

“What the hell kind of a place is the Briar Patch, anyway?” Will says into the darkness.

He’s no saint. He’d be a liar if he said sexual thoughts of Deanna hadn’t crept in over the years, sometimes even when other people have been in his bed. His hand slides down his body, an automatic response, but he stops when guilt flares in his mind. It wouldn’t be ethical to use her like this. His love life has been a bit slow of late, but that doesn’t explain this level of crushing need he feels for her.

Overheated and feeling like he could crawl out of skin, he heads for the bathroom. The sonic shower on its highest setting doesn’t do a thing to rid him of his erection. He hasn’t felt like this since he was about twelve, when he used to wake up with blinding Alaskan sunlight over the bed and a sticky mess on his thighs.

Nothing else for it. Ashamed though Will is, he gives in and gets off to lewd thoughts of Deanna Troi until he’s gasping. He’s sure he hasn’t come that hard in years.

“Riker to Doctor Crusher.” His hand is pressed to the shower wall, legs still unsteady from the orgasm that seems to have blown him apart.

“Will? Are you alright?” Beverly’s at the tail end of her shift in sick bay and sounds tired.

He suddenly realises he doesn’t know how to explain it, and what would he say, anyway?

“Ah, it’s nothing, doctor. Sorry I bothered you.”

“Will, come see me in the morning, okay? Let me be the judge of that.”

“I guess I’m feeling a bit restless,” Will tries to explain, seated on the biobed. “Like I don’t know what to do with myself. And I can’t sleep.”

“Your readings look fine to me.” Beverly examines the tricorder. “Although, you’re showing slightly elevated testosterone levels. Have you been feeling unusually aggressive?”

“I have,” Will admits, willing himself not to look away. “But only in one way. I’m feeling unusually...frisky. I haven't felt like this since I was a lot younger; put it that way.”

“Oh, I see.” He can see Beverly trying to hide her smile and returns it with one of his own, trying to brazen it out. “Well, human libido can be affected by many things. I can run some more tests if you like.”

“I don’t know if we need to do that,” Will says, finding himself distracted by how attractive Beverly is. He wonders how he never noticed before how perfectly she fills out her uniform, the sweep of her reddish-golden hair. How sexy her low, melodic voice can be. Actually, as Odan, he _did_ notice, and more, but now would be the worst possible time for those memories to surface. He pushes them away, terrified he’ll suddenly end up at half-mast in sick bay.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and Beverly gives him a curious look.

“I have to admit, I got up this morning and felt unusually energetic,” she says. “I had the strangest urge to start singing.” Her eyes are twinkling with amusement.

“I wish I felt energetic,” Will says, stifling a yawn behind his hand. “I’m exhausted. Do you think there’s something seriously wrong with me?”

“No. Most forty-year-old men wouldn’t begrudge a return to their younger self, physically.” She grins. “Maybe you should just enjoy it.”

“I guess so,” Will concedes, getting up. “Thanks, Beverly. You think any of these things are linked? I heard Worf slept in this morning. That’s not like him.”

“I’m not sure yet,” Beverly replies, her eyebrows converging in a frown. “We already know there are a number of unusual things about this region of space. I’ll have to investigate further.”

“Who knows? If we stay here long enough, maybe I’ll lose this, too.” Will pats at the gut he’s been hiding with a looser uniform for the past few years, and Beverly laughs.

“Was I doing something to your neck?” Deanna purrs.

She’s touching his neck and he can barely handle it; he’s shifting in his chair and half-hard already. He’s already forgotten whatever it was he just told her about the Son’a and ketracel-white. They’ve been driving the ship’s librarian to distraction, flicking wadded-up paper at each other and whispering like a pair of silly teenagers.

A paper ball hits the back of Will’s head, and he turns to see Lieutenant Garrell staring at the pair of them, a goofy grin on his face.

So it isn’t just them, then.

As first officer, he should probably care more about whatever seems to be turning the crew back to their adolescent selves. He should be worried about Data, still uncaptured in a scout ship with a fried positronic net. He is, sort of, but mostly he’s thinking about Deanna’s careful fingers and all the other wonderful things they can do.

Will must have taken leave of his senses, to kiss his _imzadi_ like that, with a passion that’s nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with a love he’s been trying and failing to detach himself from for the past fourteen years.

“Yuck, I never kissed you with a beard before,” Deanna says.

“I kiss you, and you say ‘yuck’?”

He thinks of all the other times he kissed her — masquerading as platonic and never quite that way — and it hadn’t ever been like this. Will was rather hoping for more than just a kiss, but he’d caught her satisfied smile as the doors closed in his face and dared to hope he still had a chance.

Maybe it’s his mid-life crisis talking, or the unexplained boost to his sex drive. Whatever it is, the knowledge hits him all at once, like the lifting of a veil:

It was always going to be her.

Minutes later, Will is lying on his bed, face propped on folded arms with a stomach full of knots, feeling more than a bit sorry for himself.

He knows he has to give Deanna space to make up her mind, but he can’t bear the wait. They can’t go back in time. Perhaps he was a fool to think they could just pick up where they left off.

The door chimes and he scrambles to his feet, knowing without question that it’s her. “Come in.”

“Are you busy?” Deanna says, her gaze uncertain.

“For you? Never,” he says earnestly, his hands framing her face. She doesn’t move away and he hopes it’s a good sign. He kisses her and it’s like coming home as her mouth opens under his, all the years they spent as friends falling away like water.

“Will,” she says when the kiss ends. “What’s gotten into you? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I think I could.” It’s no lie; his voice is thick with everything he’s feeling for her. “But maybe there are better things we could be doing right now.”

“Mm, I agree.” Deanna’s eyes darken with understanding and she reaches up to thread fingers through his hair. “Maybe I should try lying down.”

“Look, I don’t want to do this if it’s just the once,” Will says, because he has to say it, no matter how much his body craves her. “Not with you.”

“I understand,” she says quietly, her tone reassuring. She kisses him once more, very softly. “I thought about what you said. If you’re really ready for this, then I am, too.” She grins. “It’s about time, really.”

Will rests his forehead against hers. “I am,” he promises, and it’s the truth. They’ve been bending towards this end for years.

When they get down to it, his whole body hums with a manic energy he hasn’t felt since he was a much younger man. Deanna practically tears him out of his uniform, her black eyes wicked and wild as she strips him ruthlessly and pushes him towards the bed.

He mouths along her neck, fumbling at the fastenings of her uniform as she climbs on top of him. Her thigh bumps his cock, already hard where it’s trapped beneath them, and he hisses.

“You’re so hot,” he pants into her collarbone. Deanna feels like she’s burning with fever; it has to be more than just her Betazoid physiology and the fact she’s always run hotter. There’s a stab of worry again — what’s happening to them? — but it fades away in an instant as he pulls away her shirt, revealing smooth, tempting skin.

“I’ll give you hotter,” Deanna says, wriggling out of her uniform with a few quick moves and guiding his hand down between her thighs. God, she’s so wet already. Every thought in Will’s mind has narrowed to a single point: wanting her, needing to touch her, taste her everywhere. His fingers reach her clit, spreading the wetness he finds there, and she clutches at his arm, making these soft, desperate sounds that go straight to his cock.

So he’s surprised when she moves his hand away and drops to her knees on the carpet before him.

Her sinful, sweet mouth is on his cock before he can even breathe. Will can’t do a thing but ball his hands into fists and try not to push at her head, because she still remembers all those little tricks he likes, where to curl her tongue around him and the right spots to press at. She’s breathing through her nose and taking him so deep into her throat that he has to bite his tongue; it feels that good.

It creeps up on him fast. “Deanna, I can’t —” he chokes out after only a minute or two, pressing his hands to the bedspread. He both sees and _feels_ her smile around him before he comes hard into her waiting mouth. She licks him through every tremor before drawing back, pressing a kiss to his thigh.

“You’re amazing,” Will tells her, and her eyes are shining as he pulls her up by the shoulders and settles her on the bed beside him.

He leans in, starts to press kisses along her trembling belly with a mind to reciprocate, because he’s always loved that, but her fingers slide into his hair, stilling him, and she whispers: “After. I want you inside me.”

Deanna curls her small hand around him and he’s amazed to see he’s already hard again, his usual refractory period apparently a thing of the past for now. Her touch is warm and skilful and he could easily let her continue, but she clearly has other ideas.

He’s kneeling between her open thighs when he pauses, hands either side of her hips and just looks at her. “You’re so beautiful, Deanna. I never thought I’d get to have this again.”

“You’re thinking too much, Will.” Her smile is bright and fond, and he delights in it. “Come here.”

She moves her hips sinuously, hooks her ankles around his back and pulls him inside her in one smooth movement. The heat of her is overwhelming; he groans into her neck from the crashing relief of being in her finally, so much better than any fantasies his mind could construct.

“Fuck,” he grinds out, incapable of anything more coherent at this second.

“What are we doing?” Deanna murmurs, as if the spell they’re under is lifting. Her hands are stroking up and down his back and he sighs at the catch of her nails on his skin.

“What we should have done a long time ago.” He can feel her body give for him with each stroke and his insides are already aching, taut with an impending release he’s isn’t sure he can hold back from.

When he changes the angle and rocks his hips against her, she moans and says, “ _Oh_ , do that again, Will.”

He obliges, and finds himself saying, “Why haven’t we done this in years?”

“Friendship,” Deanna gasps, “propriety,” the end of each word cutting off as it’s punctuated by his thrusts, getting deeper each time, “the chain of command.”

“Screw all that,” Will growls, kissing her, and that’s when he feels her slip into his mind, urging him on. It’s an intimacy he hasn’t felt in years, and a good thing, too. Deanna could always drive him crazy with nothing but her telepathic prowess, and remembering that wouldn’t have made it any easier to be her friend rather than her lover.

 _Can you feel it, imzadi? How much I love you being in me…_ Deanna’s sensual, silky voice intones in his mind. _Harder, Will, come on. I know you’re holding back._

He feels the glow of arousal in her mind as it wraps around his, the coiling desire he’s building in her with every shift of his hips between her thighs. It’s almost too much; he’s already struggling to identify where her desire ends and his begins.

“Take me,” she gasps out loud, her fingers sliding around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth back to hers.

_I want to feel it tonight and tomorrow, too. You inside me. When I sit down. When I’m on the bridge. When I’m talking to the captain, to Beverly, to my patients —_

Deanna is shaking now, dragging her nails down to rest on his lower back, trying to tug him closer though that’s almost physically impossible.

Will could never say no to her, not like this, but those words shred the last of his fraying control. He thrusts deeper, faster, losing himself in her completely like some kind of feral creature. She takes every bit of it, encouraging him with her sharp nails on his skin and the press of her ankles. The bed starts creaking and they both laugh but he doesn’t let up, not a bit, fucking her every bit as roughly as he knows she wants him to. When he’s about to break, Deanna lights up the pleasure centres of his mind with sparks of red, molten heat and speeds his release with a wordless command: _come_. He nearly blacks out with the intensity, slamming into her one last time as he pulses and spills himself inside her.

When Will returns to himself, he’s curled on his side beside her and touching her with shaking fingers. She’s slippery with his release and her own arousal, and he’s apologetic he couldn’t wait for her while being absolutely determined to make it up to her. His brain might not belong to him right now, but at least he still remembers how to get her off.

“Touch me, Will,” she says, her gaze feverish as she turns it upon him. More faintly: “Please.”

His telepathy is rusty, but with some effort, he manages to send, _How_ _could I ever say no to you?_ and feels her surprised laughter in his mind.

Sensing her pleasure is incredible, and he's reminded of how lucky he is to see and feel her like this, completely undone and pleading for his touch. When he curls two fingers up inside her, his thumb making circles on that perfect spot to the left of her clit, it’s not long before Deanna cries out, a gratifying sound that’s just for him as she comes in a wet, shuddering rush all over his hand. He feels it too, an echo in his mind that makes his cock twitch even though he’s utterly spent.

“Guess I’ve still got it,” Will says, unashamedly arrogant. Deanna swats at him, still breathing heavily and clenching around his fingers. He slowly eases them out of her, sensing a jolt of sensitivity, and underneath it, a longing for more.

She pulls back from his mind and he winces at the new emptiness he feels.

“It’ll be too much, Will, if I stay in there,” Deanna explains, clearly picking up on his emotions. “We haven’t connected like this in years. You’ll get a headache.”

“Maybe I don’t care,” Will says hotly. In response, he feels the smallest brush of her mind against his, like she’s letting him know she’s still there. It’s a compromise.

He strokes damp fingers down her side and smiles when she shivers.

“You’re going to be sore,” he says, making a face because he probably did get a bit carried away. “We really should have have replicated some lube first.”

“Mm, I do hope so,” Deanna says, and the glowing smile she gives him is brighter than any sun he’s seen across countless planets and galaxies. It steals his breath and makes him dip his head to kiss her again — never mind the beard.

“How about a hot bath, at least,” Will insists, springing to his feet. He feels giddy and younger than he has in years. He could run miles, play a parisses squares tournament without breaking a sweat, and if Deanna is amenable to it, he’s fairly certain he could go as many times as she wants.

“You know I’ll never say no to that.” Deanna’s eyes glint teasingly. She gets up — unsteadily, a very self-satisfied part of him notes — and reaches for his face, running a hand over the roughness of his beard.

“I’ve just had a wonderful idea,” she says, making her way to the replicator. “Computer. One men’s straight razor, metal.”

And, well — he’d do anything for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Lovin' is Bible' by The Aces.


End file.
